I was so relieved to see two beds when I opened the hotel room door. Things had gotten way out of hand at my condo, and I’d lost control of myself. I couldn’t risk something like that happening again, especially in our current vulnerable states.

When Vanessa pushed past me and flopped onto the farthest bed, I took that as a good sign. She was as exhausted as I was. But then I heard it. The faint sniffling sound of someone trying to muffle a cry. I quickly locked the door and went to her.

“What’s wrong? Everything will be fine. Let’s just clean up a bit and you’ll feel better.” I rubbed her back as one would a child’s, careful to stay on top of her clothing. “I think mine’s just a graze. Once it’s bandaged…”

“Oh, Martin, we could have died!” Vanessa sobbed into the pillow.

“No, no. I would never let anything happen to you. You have to know that.”

“I do.” She turned to me, her eyes red and swollen but shining with a fierceness I’d never seen before. “I know you’d never let anything happen to me. But what if something happens to you?” She turned completely on her side and wrapped herself around me, almost in a fetal position.

“I’m made of steel, Ms. Genovese. Gonna take more than a 9mm to take me down, especially the way they were aiming!”

Vanessa slapped me and looked up. “Ms. Genovese? Really? We’re back to that again?”

I shifted on my section of her bed, raising my hand from her back. “Well. I, uh…”

“Forget it,” she grumbled, turning away from me. “I’d like to be alone now, Mr. Martin.”

“Max,” I said, getting up as ordered.

Vanessa popped up, smiling through her tears. “Max! Really?” She clapped her hands together once and held them in front of her chest.

“Yes, really. Max. I’m gonna go clean up.” I closed the bathroom door.

I heard her jump off the bed and come to the locked door. Then she yelled, “I bet that’s short for Maximus considering what I know about you.” Innuendo dripped off every word.

I did not dignify that with a response. Instead, I tore a strip of clean-ish fabric off my shirt and used it to wipe at the drying blood on my abdomen. Thankfully, it was just a graze.

After finishing the minor first aid, I allowed Vanessa the first shot at a shower. She was in and out quickly, as was I after her. When I returned to the room, she was sound asleep on top of her covers. I removed the top comforter from my own bed and placed it over her. I was asleep myself moments later, fully dressed under my sheet.

Sometime deep in the night, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it, but it started again moments later. With one eye open, I read the caller ID and felt all the air escape my body.

“Mr. Martin, sir. I’m sorry to call at this late hour but…” the Hospice nurse’s voice faded, my brain refusing to hear the end of that sentence.

“Was it fast? Did she say anything?” So many questions came tumbling out of my mouth. I’m sure the woman responded, but again, I heard nothing.

I turned to face away from Vanessa, not wanting to be heard. As the nurse explained what was to come next, Ma’s wishes and final preparations, all I could do was stare at the large, noisy air conditioner unit that stretched across the wall under the bay window. I willed myself to make no sound, focusing on my breathing and the damp spot spreading across my pillow.

“We sent Mr. Cruz home. He was there with her until the end. It was fast, Mr. Martin,” the nurse continued. “He has her belongings.”

Cruz. Such a great man. He was there for her when I wasn’t.

At some point, the line went dead. Either I hung up or she did, I had no clue. I lay there, as silent as possible, reeling from the news. My mind catalogued all the ways I’d let Ma down, over the years and just in the past few months.

I’d put her in that place, knowing it would be her last. Never mind the fact that Carmichael was the best care facility in the country. She hadn’t wanted to be away from me. I hadn’t wanted to be away from her, either, but I just couldn’t. It had been selfish. I’d spent my life’s savings putting her in the fanciest place I could find to appease myself, not her.

And the call! I’d ignored the call from the nursing home just hours earlier. I’d never called back. I’d left Cruz there to do what I should have done myself. I’m the worst son in the world.

I lay on my side, not daring to move, wondering how I’d find the strength to wake up tomorrow.